


It's Not Always Pretty

by Desirae



Series: Loved you forever [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Cocky Dean Winchester, Dean always knows what Cas needs, Feelings, Humor, M/M, Married Destiel, Nurturer Dean, Porn with Feelings, Snarky Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 14:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13591860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Cas rolled his eyes and arched his back. “You’re a dick.”“You love my dick, Castiel.”





	It's Not Always Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. Cas was having a moment.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)0(

Sometimes Cas gets angry. Stony silence, doesn’t want to acknowledge his husband’s presence, angry. Only his desperation for Dean doesn’t allow him _not_ to touch. _Not_ to kiss. He blames Dean for splashing bright red ink over his watercolor memories of their past. For repainting each one as seen through the eyes of unrequited love. Birthdays, Christmases, memories of Dean going out of his way to always make them special and unique, things he’d foolishly been humbled to think were the actions of a very best friend, only to now see them through eyes of what must have been for Dean longing and heartbreak.

 

“Don’t be so overdramatic,” Dean puffed out. “It’s not like I saved myself. Cassie was a _fine_ first time,” he winked saucily.

 

Cas rolled his eyes and arched his back. “You’re a dick.”

 

“You love my dick, Castiel.”

 

It’s not always pretty.

 

Despite what their friends think, everyone calling them saccharine, like lusty teens at the prom.

 

Well, they were that too.

 

But marriage was hard. It took effort. It took making the conscious effort to wake up each morning still saying _yes, I want_ this _one. He is going to be my person for the rest of my life._ And still feel butterflies when you thought about it all.

 

That still happened every damn day.

 

Dean hissed underneath Castiel as he dragged his fingernail down, scraping over his husband’s tight nipple.

 

But still. Marriage was hard. Because Dean would bare it, take the burden of Castiel’s own guilt and turn it into his own, so Cas could punish them both for what never should have laid unspoken. Dean just _knew_ when Cas needed to take... _something_ and would go out of his way to goad him into it. To being a _little_ bit rougher, for the kisses to be a _tiny_ bit nippier. He would deliberately tease, be a bit flirtier with everyone, and little more free with his history, stories of one night stands shared around the poker table. Anything that Dean knew was going to make Castiel crack, make him snap and release that anger and regret he was still working through.

 

It probably wasn’t healthy. But it worked for them.

 

It was happening less and less, his _melancholy_ _moments_ Dean called them. When really they ran the gamut from angry, sad, grateful, wistful...never ending emotions.

 

It takes a while to heal from the clarity of memories that were once seen through rose-colored glasses. Dean deals with the regret of his own silence with his humor and cocky attitude.

 

Castiel either cries with an aching heart or becomes a salty antagonistic asshole.

 

Dean smiled at him, cheekily as Cas inhaled at a perfectly well-aimed thrust.

 

“I _ah_ , I am aware of your magical night with Ms. Robinson,” he bit out, sandpaper voice full of snark.

 

And hadn’t it been fun sitting across from her at the fundraiser for the arts programs Friday night, as she had just been hired to the department.

 

“I just don’t see why you feel the need to share how hot she looked doing the reverse cowgirl, in front of everyone at the poker table.”

 

Dean snickered and Cas slammed his hips downward, earning his own mewled whimper from the freckled man beneath him.

 

“I was just participating in the conversation, Cas. I _shit_ ," Dean bit his lip and thumbed Cas’ hip bones hard, as he rolled his body faster, flexing his hole rhythmically. “I wasn’t the only one who answered the question, and believe me, I did not need to hear about Sammy's first time with that crazy-eyed Amelia chick.”

 

Castiel snorted and leaned forward to catch Dean’s lips in a wet kiss, tongues slick and sliding against each other as Cas ground down. He saw the dare in Dean’s eyes as Cas braced his hands on Dean’s thighs behind him and began to slide up and down again, the drag of Dean’s cock as it dipped in and out, delicious.

 

“Oh, so you would have loved to hear all about my first time with Alfie?” Castiel arched a brow, accepting the challenge, and ready for the sharp thrust, his jaw clenched.

 

The moan still escaped.

 

“I’m sure it was all very poetic,” Dean panted out, “ locked overnight in the school library during a snowstorm or something, getting hot over Walt Whitman,” Dean winked and Cas lost it.

 

Laughter.

 

Another one of the ingredients in his emotional stew.

 

Head tipped back, Cas laughed, loud, body trembling, then quickly lost his breath as Dean flipped them over. Cas locked his legs high around Dean’s waist. Golden flecks sparkled out of forest green eyes, illuminated by the light on the nightstand.

 

“You’re an asshole,” Castiel said, affection in his tone belying the harsh words, and Dean’s breath tickled his collarbone as he chuckled against Castiel’s skin. Dean’s thrusts began again, languidly and Cas sighed.

 

“We should have been each other’s firsts,” is what finally whispered out of him and Dean smiled down at him, tenderly, moving his hips quicker now, making Cas’ breath hitch.

 

“We are. In everything that matters, sweetheart.”

 

Dean knew what to say, knew him better than anyone and Castiel loved that, recognized that he was lucky beyond measure. Cas pulled Dean in again by the back of the head, stealing another kiss, lips catching and clinging, the sound of skin on skin and rapid breathing filled the room. Dean angled his head, burying his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck, sucking at the damp skin and Cas arched, moaning loudly as the head of Dean’s cock brushed against his prostate. Dean gave a grunt of satisfaction at Cas’ response, easing back to make sure he would keep hitting that spot.

 

Cas’ dick was slick with precome, as he leaked copiously between their stomachs. The orgasm came like a lightning strike, and he could only gasp as he pulsed, hot and thick, all the way up his chest. Dean groaned lowly at the sight and Cas felt his hips stutter before a hot warmth flooded him.

 

“Feel better?” Dean mumbled as he slumped forward, Cas’ legs refusing to let him slip out just yet.

 

“Mm-hmm,” Cas hummed, eyes closed, skin cooling, cum dripping from his stretched pucker as Dean slid free. “Yes, thank you. I love you, baby.”

 

It’s not always pretty.

 

But it’s still perfect for them.

 

“I love you, too.”

 


End file.
